The Art of Isolationism
by deathcabforkira
Summary: Being a shinigami can get quite lonely, and boring as well...or so it seems.    Rated T, just to be safe, I guess.
1. Once Again

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note, any of its charaters, etc.**

An emaciated figure sat perched atop the remains of a crumbling headstone. He watched from beneath a mop of rather unruly jet-black hair as people came and went, as they did every day. Of course, it was rather depressing, but as far as he was concerned, it couldn't get much worse.

"Oh dear…How I miss you."

The figure's head tilted to the side a bit, his attention focused on an elderly lady who had come to visit the stone on which he sat. Her gray head was bent low; she placed a single flower on the ground and remained motionless for a moment.

"You loved him," the young man said, ending his sentence in a slight sigh. He paused and glanced at the numbers that briefly flashed above her head. "Don't worry. It won't be long before the two of you are reunited."

The woman did not hear him, though, or even see him. She walked away, and Beyond Birthday turned his attention elsewhere. It was good that no one saw him. They would have been frightened out of their minds if they had: his long-sleeved black shirt hung loosely around his bony frame. Like said shirt, his old jeans were ripped and worn in some places. His wild-looking dark hair made his ivory skin seem even whiter; his blood-red eyes were surrounded by dark circles, and - in a few spots- there was evidence that he had suffered from severe burns.

Beyond drew a shaky breath, unfurled a huge pair of feathery black wings, and flapped them, creating a fairly good-sized gust of wind as he did so. He was hovering, rather than actually flying, but it was easier than walking. If one /could/ have seen him, he would have looked as tired as he felt. The only thing keeping his fatigued body from falling to the ground were that wings that were beating slowly and steadily. Doing the same thing every day seemed to be having a negative effect on him. The sun was almost completely sunken down below the horizon now, which was why he had started heading south. Row after row of headstones he passed, each one casting a shadow on the ground. There were slight variations in shape and size, but they were all basically the same thing. Beyond had so often explored the cemetery, he now knew his way around, even in the dark of a starless, moonless night.

Finally, he stopped at the end of a seemingly-forgotten row, landing lightly on his bare feet. Beyond slumped to the ground, leaning his full weight against the headstone. He heaved a tired sigh and shifted his position so that he could see the inscription.

_Rue Ryuzaki_

_Justice Will Prevail_

"No one misses you like I do, Lawli-pop," Beyond rasped, his voice forever ruined by the flames that had threatened to burn him for eternity. He traced the inscription with a bony index finger before returning to his slouched postion. His eyelids drooped, the heaviness of sleep overcoming him at last.

**A/N: Aaand, that's the end of chapter one. Let me know what you think, okay ~ ? I'll update soon, I promise.**


	2. Remember

Since becoming a shinigami, Beyond's dreams had been anything but pleasant…usually. Lately, he had nightmares haunted by the torturous flames that had tormented him for what seemed like a thousand years. Those flames burned without leaving scars; however, they had been what ruined his voice. That terror had been etched into his mind forever. Becoming a shinigami may have saved him from spending an eternity in…well, you get it, but wandering the cemetery in his spare time was anything but uplifting. When he wasn't plagued by those awful memories, he dreamed of his mentor. The one person whom he felt he could ever completely trust. The one whom he had strived so hard to be like. After L had left Wammy's, Beyond had spent months perfecting his charade: a plan which he thought to be oh-so-brilliant. He walked like L, talked like L, looked like L, acted like L: he had almost flawlessly assumed the role of his old friend. At first, it had been (or so he told himself) the only way to keep L close. Eventually, though, he wanted to be better than L. "So that he'll be proud of me," as he had once said. Beyond realized -though far too late- that he was nothing more than a child in a costume. He had put so much into becoming L that he had long ago lost his real identity. The memories of his better day at Wammy's were the only things that could keep him company, though they were more like too-pleasant-to-be-true-hallucinations laced with fragments of those distant times.

He woke with a start and attempted to clear his head. Something had awakened him, perhaps from the dream he had been having, though he was unable to recall what it was that he had been dreaming about. He was glad, though, that he was awake now, because a rare sight was unfolding before his eyes. To anyone else, it would have been nothing more than delicate wisps of ground-covering fog. But to Beyond Birthday, it was a gathering of pale, almost translucent figures that seemed to glow. They were young, old; short, tall; heavy, thin; they were from all different time periods, lifestyles, and places. Before drifting off to sleep again, he searched, hoping to find someone he knew. Someone who might miss him. He knew no one was _alive_ missed him. After all, who would miss a vicious criminal?

To his slight disappointment, among the many figures he saw, he did not see any familiar faces. That, however, did not meant that they had not seen him

**A/N: Okay, so maybe that wasn't the best ending, but still.**


	3. Perhaps

Beyond still sat on the cold ground, all of his weight slumped uncomfortably against the headstone. His face was expressionless, and his large wings twitched as he slept. What Beyond did not know was that, beside him, stood a young man. He had the same dark hair, though it seemed slightly more wild; the same dark circles around his eyes, as if they had come from a terrible case of insomnia; the same odd, slouched posture. The nearly transparent figure smiled down at Beyond and ruffled his hair, not wanting to disturb him too much.

"I miss you, too, B…"

"L..? You okay?" This was from a younger man who stood a few feet away. There were holes in his stripy shirt, as well as holes in his chest. He did not feel any of that pain anymore, though. They were simply nothing more than mere trophies that he enjoyed showing off to others like himself as proof of his "heroic" last moments. A leather-clad blonde stood beside him, his arms crossed. The two exchanged worried and sympathetic glances when L showed no signs of hearing them.

"Hey, L.." Matt, the one in the striped shirt, took a few steps forward, hoping to get the man's attention. The blonde stopped him, grabbing his arms and pulling him back.

"Leave him alone for now."

"But Mels…" Matt stopped, deciding it was better to change the subject a bit. "He really liked B, huh?"

Mello nodded. "Even if B was kind of creepy, he wasn't /that/ bad. I mean, considering all that happened…it wasn't really his fault, y'know?"

The two stood silently, watching L, who was still standing beside Beyond Birthday's limp form.

"Look at your wings," L whispered. He wanted to reach out and stroke one, but he knew he didn't dare wake the other. "I never thought you'd end up like this…I suppose I am the one to blame. Had I not pushed you and your friend so hard…Perhaps none of this would have happened. Perhaps you would have lived longer." There was a fond smile on the detective's face and sadness in his eyes as he gave B one last pat on the head and turned towards Matt and Mello.

"Maybe he'll be awake next time," Matt said, adjusting the goggles that rested on top of his red hair. His words had meant to be comforting, and L was grateful for the effort.

"Perhaps," was all he said.

They seemed to evaporate back into the fog as they walked away, weaving back and forth between the headstones, other figures melting with them as they went. Beyond opened one eye and watched the "fog" slowly disappear, drifting farther and farther away as it was carried on the wind. A smile flickered across his face.

"I _knew_ you missed me."

He shifted slightly and tried to sleep once more, awaiting the next chance to, perhaps, see his friends once more.

**A/N: So, that's it ~ I had so much spare time, I was able to get it all updated in just one day. I hope you enjoyed it, and reviews are always appreciated.**


End file.
